Child glued himself to Guild Wars almost as soon as the wrapping paper was removed and I discovered the Rubik's Cube I got him is, in fact, a form of torture. I'd forgotten the dark hell of almost getting it right. Lowering, all things considered. Also these super awesome drumsticks that you wear headphones with and beat the air while bopping along. They hook up to the computer, for recording purposes, or iTunes, for beat purposes, whatever, made of win. (I don't think anything on this planet will ever match Child bouncing around slamming them into mid air with his headphones on. Seriously. This is just--better than TV.) Also gave him Star Wars action figures, though he's wary about opening them, wondering if they will accumulate value if left in their original wrappings.
...he watches too much sci-fi, I think. *sighs* I have--somewhere in the garage--a box of Star Wars figures I've been buying since he was born; like seven or eight whenever they went on sale. I told him that they are his, and to go forth and find them. If you could see the state of the garage, you might not wonder why I cackled before, during, and after telling him.
He's already glanced in and blanched; I am timing how long it takes for determination to overcome utter, complete horror. New Year's, at the latest.
Also a new jump drive, since the one he has doesn't work very well, headphones because earbuds hurt his ears, and Ripley's Believe It or Not book, which I am only surprised he has stopped clutching ecstatically to his chest.
So far, Guild Wars is working fine, though I told him to restart every time he finishes playing to clear all the memory. My brother in law watched in interest and asked pertinent questions, which leads me to wonder whether, in fact, I will get an entire Guild out of my family somehow. I can see this. With John now the spare laptop and BIL's laptop, it's possible that I will wake up one day to a group of gaming zombie family members, peering into the yellow light of their screens mumbling in l33t. Should that day come, I expect someone to come and rescue me immediately. I'm so serious.
Niece has karaoke machine. Saying this can only end in disaster is an understatement; upon realizing what we would be subjected to, adult relatives went for the Baileys and coffee. It doesn't so much drown the sounds as make us less able to run after her with any kind of coordination.
Waffles went to play outside in his pen, sans outfit. I can be cruel, but not that cruel. I'm nto sure he would survive if confronted with another rabbit while wearing a red wool coat and reindeer ears. I really wish he had a friend, though. While I understand his breed actually does tend to have a high proportion of loners-by-choice (and he literally hated the other three), I still want to introduce him to one his own age and size to see if they might hit it off.
Ah, Christmas. Now to get Waffles into his suit for a bit. For picture purposes, of course.